Results of a Crime
by InsanelyOkay
Summary: "Holmes? She's... related to you?" John learns that the consulting detective has been keeping a secret from him for as long as they've known each other. Just as John is meeting the fifteen-year-old resident of 221B, the duo gets thrown right into the middle of a crime that might change the way John sees Sherlock Holmes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Greetings and salutations my dudes! Welcome to my first Sherlock fanfiction. I apologize in advance if the characters don't seem to be written correctly. This is my first time working with the characters, so I'm just working out how to write them and what not.**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

The sky was dark by the time that the girl had decided to return home. Her straight, black hair falls past her shoulders and stops just below her shoulder blades. The last inches of her hair fade into a pale blue color that matches that of her eyes. Her eyes are narrowed slightly against the wind, more instinctively than for comfort, and she quickly pulls the hood of her jacket over her face as she walks. She feels quite certain that her father would be very angry with her, but she honestly didn't care at this point.

The wind whistles loudly as the girl turns the corner, her black boots clicking loudly against the concrete. The girl quickly crosses the street and begins walking down the other side of the road. She looks towards the sky as the clouds opens up and rain begins to pour down on her in buckets. She takes no notice of the cold rain except to occasionally wipe water off of her face. Off in the distance, she can she can see lightning cracking across the sky in bursts of blinding light and she can hear thunder exploding over the rooftops.

The girl continues on, violent shivers running through her body. She seems completely unaware of this as she continues to trudge through the pouring rain. Her dark hair is plastered to the side of her face and her pale eyes are blinking quickly as rain drops splash onto her eyelashes. She pulls at the strap of her backpack, attempting to shift it slightly as the weight of her books pulls down on her shoulders. She had forgone bringing a larger jacket with her and is now being protected only by the thin fabric of her black hoodie.

She pulls her cell phone from her pocket, shielding it from the rain as she checks the time. The glowing 6:00 shines onto her face and the corners of her mouth twitch into a frown. She would definitely be grounded for at least eternity, and not just because of the time that she was returning home, but because of the fact that she was risking the chance of being spotted. Her father would be very angry if she was spotted. She was supposed to be a secret after all, and one shouldn't spill their secrets.

* * *

Sherlock is stretched out on the couch, a very annoyed expression on his face. His fingers tap impatiently against his thigh as he checks the clock for what must have been the twentieth time within a span of five minutes. He scowls at the clock face as it shows him a time very similar to the one he had seen the first few times he had checked.

"It is still six in the morning. It isn't going to change, no matter how many times you check it." John's slightly annoyed voice breaks into Sherlock's thoughts as the army doctor looks over the top of his newspaper. "Are you waiting for something important?"

"Important? Yes, I would think so." Sherlock gives a cold response before quickly crossing his arms. "I believe that most would consider this important."

"You believe?" John looks at him in disbelief as he sets the paper to the side, watching Sherlock with a slight frown. "You mean to say that you don't know?"

Sherlock doesn't give a response as he once again checks the time, his annoyed expression growing. He can see John out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head and picking up the newspaper again. Sherlock reads over the time displayed on the clock multiple time before shaking his head. It now displays ten minutes past six. This day was certainly going quite well.

A loud knock at the door has Sherlock quickly standing from the couch and rushing down the steps before John even has a chance to move. The definitive pattern of the knock is repeated and Sherlock quickly clamps a hand around the door knob before pulling the door open. He stares out the door as a teenage girl steps into his line of sight

"Hullo. Sorry about the wait." The girl attempts to push past him, but Sherlock pushes her back with a hand against her shoulder. "I was caught up with something. The experiment sort of got out of control."

Sherlock says nothing as he continues to efficiently block the doorway. He crosses his arms and then shoots a slight glare in the direction of the girl. She gives a nervous smile as she looks up at Sherlock, hand subconsciously pulling at the strap of her backpack. Her foot begins to tap against the ground rather quickly, drawing Sherlock's attention to her leg.

"You're bleeding." He states in a tone that states he cares more than he's letting on. He reaches out a hand to grab her shoulder softly. He then leads her into the building and up the small flight of stairs. "Were you aware of that?"

She glances down at her leg as she clumsily walks up the steps, limbs heavy from lack of sleep. The bottom section of her pant leg does indeed seem to be covered in blood, as well as rain water. "Oh, that doesn't look very good." A trace of panic can be heard leaking into her voice as she gives a quietly spoken response.

"This is why you aren't supposed to be out by yourself." Sherlock mutters as they reach the top of the steps. He enters the flat, followed close behind by the girl. "John. It seems that your medical knowledge is needed."

John looks up from his paper and takes in the sight before him. He looks at the girl for a moment before his gaze rests on the bloodsoaked pant leg. He jumps from his chair and ushers the girl over to the couch. Sherlock stands next to the couch and watches as John pulls back the torn fabric of her jeans.

"As soon as I'm done, I expect an explanation from you, Sherlock." John doesn't look up as he speaks, simply continuing his inspection of the wound. He shakes his head slightly as he completely exposes her lower leg, revealing a long gash just above her ankle. "It's not too deep, but it still needs stitches."

"Oh, that's not too bad. Go ahead." The girl gives a small nod before looking over at Sherlock who is watching her with a curious expression. She lifts an eyebrow in question before looking back at John.

"What is that?" Sherlock speaks suddenly, having come up next to John so that he's directly in front of the girl. He picks up a strand of hair from her shoulders and holds the dyed ends in front of her face. "What did you do?"

"Temporary dye. For my experiment." She says through her teeth as she shifts on the couch. Her face holds an expression of annoyance as she watches John for a short moment. The doctor had begun to look through his medical bag again, even though the needle and thread already sit on the floor next to him. "Excuse me, sir, but you've already got the supplies out."

"Experiment? Hmph. Some experiment." Sherlock mutters under his breath as he sits on the arm of the couch. He watches as John looks up from his search to give a quick response to the girl's prior comment.

"Looking for some anesthetic. I'm assuming that you'll want some." John gives a little nod and then turns to look through his bag again. The girl quickly interrupts him by grabbing the needle off of the ground.

"Oh, you're useless. I'll just do it myself." She knits her eyebrows as she pulls at the length of thread before lifting her injured leg onto her other knee. "You are taking far too long. Besides, I don't need any anesthetic."

Sherlock watches in amusement as John fumbles for the needle, attempting to pull it from her hands. He manages to pull the needle towards him with an incredulous expression. The girl simple shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest and glaring slightly at John.

"You don't need any anesthetic? Are you certain that you don't want any?" John holds up the needle, thread now attached. "It will hurt quite a bit."

She stares at him but doesn't respond besides giving a slow nod. Her face holds a slightly unimpressed expression as she props her injured leg up on the small coffee table. John sighs and begins to slowly stitch up the gash. He looks up every so often to watch the girl's facial expressions, but he sees no change. Not a single sign of pain.

"Alright. Just about done." John ties off the thread and then stands up, turning his gaze towards Sherlock. "Now, what exactly is going on?"

"This is Elizabeth." Sherlock moves from the arm of the couch and places himself next to the girl who had propped her both of her legs up on the coffee table again. He then continues speaking, this last part directed mostly at the girl. "She seems to think that returning at any hour of the morning is completely acceptable."

"My name is not Elizabeth. It's Kaley." She speaks in a clipped tone as she shoots him annoyed glare. She keeps her gaze on him for a moment longer before suddenly bringing a hand to her head and falling forwards against Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock lifts an eyebrow as a concerned expression falls over his face. He lightly taps a finger against the side of her face with his knuckle and then watches as Kaley lifts her head slowly. She presses the heel of her hand against her eyes as she shifts slightly on the couch. Sherlock shakes his head and pulls her hand away from her face.

"You're going to hurt yourself." He mumbles as Kaley drops her hand down to her side, pulling it out of Sherlock's grasp. He can see John's look of complete bewilderment, but he decides to ignore it for the time being. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I forgot what sleep deprivation feels like. I'm tired." She mumbles as she leans her head against Sherlock's shoulder again, words slurred slightly. Her mouth opens in a loud yawn before her eyes slide shut and she's out like a light.

"Sherlock. What is going on?" John snaps in confusion as he watches the scene before him. "Who is this? And what's wrong with her?"

"I've told you already. This is Elizabeth, or _Kaley_ , I suppose." Sherlock shakes his head, arm wrapping tightly around Kaley's shoulders. He then continues speaking in a slightly harsher tone. "And there is nothing wrong with her."

"Well, I just thought… she didn't seem to feel any pain. She also just collapsed for no reason." John throws his arms up in exasperation. He shakes his head quickly and then speaks again, as if suddenly realizing what Sherlock had said. "Telling me her name doesn't explain anything, Sherlock."

"Fine. I'll tell you her full name. Maybe you can figure it out then." Sherlock's voice takes on that familiar arrogant tone as he glances at John. He keeps his arm around Kaley's shoulders as he speaks slowly. "Her name is Kaley. Elizabeth. Holmes."

John's mouth hangs open as realization dawns on him. He shakes his head as if he can't quite believe what's happening. They sit in awkward silence for several moments before John finally snaps out of it and speaks. "Holmes? She's… related to you?"

"Clearly." Sherlock's mouth quirks into a small, amused expression as he begins to slowly run a hand through Kaley's dark hair. "I would have assumed that the resemblance gave it away."

"So, she's related to you." John raises an eyebrow, confusion still clear on his face. He stands from his crouched position and sits in his chair across from the couch. He runs a hand over his face as he glances at Sherlock. "Is she a niece, or a cousin, or…"

"She's my daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Welcome to the second chapter of this weird story that my brain has concocted! I hope that these first two chapters aren't as awful as I think that they are. Also, sorry about the awfully short chapter and... on to the story!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

John stares at Sherlock, mouth hanging open slightly. He is shaking his head back and forth as he attempts to wrap his head around what he just heard. He turns his head to stare out of the window, his eyebrows pulled together in disbelief. This couldn't be right. Sherlock couldn't possibly have a child. Could he?

Sherlock's soft mumbles break into John's flurry of thoughts and he turns his head back in the detective's direction. He watches as Sherlock speaks quietly to Kaley, who had woken up a few moments ago and is now blinking blearily up at Sherlock. She presses the palm of her hand against her eyes only to be stopped by Sherlock pulling her hand away from her face. She glares at him slightly before letting out a small yawn and resting her head against his shoulder, right hand gripping the fabric of Sherlock's sleeve.

"You're serious then?" John's questioning tone cuts through the quiet hum of the room and he has a sceptical expression on his face. "You actually have a daughter? She's not just some stranger that you've paid to trick me?"

Kaley lifts her head from its position leaning against Sherlock and then shoots the army doctor a questioning look. Her face shows an expression of annoyance and a little bit of amusement, but she stays silent as she watches the army doctor. She lets out a another quiet yawn and Sherlock places a hand on the back of her head before bringing her head back against his shoulder. He shifts his gaze and looks over at John, a slight frown on his face.

"Of course she's my daughter." He shakes his head, an unamused expression on his face as he wraps an arm around Kaley. "Why would I pay her to trick you?"

"It just seems unlikely to me that you would have a daughter." John sighs, leaning forwards so that his elbows rest on his knees. "That seems far too normal for you."

"Really? Too normal?" Kaley's sleepy voice is muffled by the fabric of Sherlock's shirt, but John is still able to hear her words. "That's not really accurate, now is it?"

The corner of Sherlock's mouth quirks up slightly at Kaley's words and he watches as John lifts a single eyebrow in confusion. The army doctor opens his mouth, as if to say something, and then closes it with a slight shake of his head, knowing better than to question anything like this. Sherlock watches for a short moment before he speaks, ensuring that Kaley had fallen back asleep before doing so.

"Ask your questions. I'm sure that you have quite a few."

"Yes, a few, but I think just one for now." He gives a slightly uncertain response, a small frown on his face. "What is wrong with her? And, it's clearly not nothing."

"She has congenital analgesia." Sherlock states slowly as he continues carding a hand through Kaley's hair. "The inability to feel pain."

"Okay. I have another question that needs answering. How do _you_ have a daughter?" John waves his arms around in an attempt to fully describe his complete and utter confusion. "Father doesn't really seem to be a title that would fit you."

Sherlock gives a small nod, staying silent for a moment as he watches Kaley shift in her sleep. The girl had begun to snuffle quietly, a peaceful expression falling over her face. She scoots closer to Sherlock with a sleepy mumble, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. Sherlock watches her for a moment longer, a fond expression on his usually emotionless face, before looking back up at the army doctor.

"Hmm… Yes, most would agree with you." He deliberates silently with himself for a moment before continuing. "But it does seem that Kaley has survived to the age of fifteen, no worse for wear."

"She is your child?" John narrows his eyes slightly as he watches the consulting detective. "Biologically, I mean."

Kaley's light coughing interrupts Sherlock's response and he worriedly looks down at her. He places a hand on the back of her head and then shakes her shoulder lightly, attempting to wake her. She blinks her eyes open slowly, stifling another cough behind her hand. Her face is flushed and her eyes are watering slightly. She gives another rasping cough before leaning heavily against Sherlock's shoulder.

"Now you've gone and gotten sick." Sherlock mutters as he sits up, pulling Kaley up with him into a sitting position. He stands, picking Kaley up and then resting her head softly against his shoulder. "John, your medical expertise is once again required."

John nods quickly, standing from his armchair and then following after Sherlock. They walk towards Sherlock's room and then step through the door. Sherlock sets Kaley on the bed and then sits next to her, placing a hand against her forehead. John walks around to the other side of the bed and then begins to pull things from his bag. Kaley rolls onto her side, leaning into Sherlock's hand as she lets out another cough.

John pulls a stethoscope from his bag and places it against the girl's back. He gives quiet instructions to her as he listens to her breathing. Kaley is only half awake at this point, but she follows the doctor's instructions with small nods and incoherent mumbles. John quickly finishes his examination and begins to pack his things away.

"She's alright. It just seems like she has a bad cold and a slight fever." John goes into the bathroom and comes back a moment later with a towel soaked in cold water. He places it on Kaley's forehead and then looks over at Sherlock. "You never gave me your response, Sherlock."

"Yes." He looks up from watching Kaley shifting in her sleep before he speaks again. "That was all that I was going to say. She is biologically my daughter."

* * *

John had decided not to further question Sherlock over the topic and so he'd left Sherlock to worry over Kaley by himself. He would definitely be questioning Sherlock later but, for now, he would let him take care of his daughter. That seemed like the best thing to do. John probably also needed to take some time to get his thoughts in order, and to straighten out the questions that he was going to ask Sherlock.

The army doctor had been sitting in his armchair for about half an hour when Sherlock finally emerged from his room. He walks over to his chair and flops down with a small nod in John's direction. He stares at John and they sit in silence for several moments. John finally gathers his thoughts and leans forwards slightly, a small frown an his face.

"How is she your daughter, Sherlock? How do you have a daughter?" John stares at the detective, an expression of disbelief on his face. He brings his eyebrows together as waits for the detective to answer.

Sherlock clears his throat slightly before speaking in a low voice. "It wasn't my choice to have a child, if that is what you were asking." He finishes with a small nod, his expression clearly showing that he has no intention of giving John an actual answer to his questions, at least not verbally.

The two of them stare at each other for quite a while, neither of them willing to speak. A slightly awkward silence falls over the room and John begins to shift uncomfortably in his armchair. He opens his mouth several times, as if to speak, before closing it again with a shake of his head. Sherlock watches the doctor with an unemotional mask on his face and his fingers begin to tap against the arm of his chair.

John is about to speak when Sherlock suddenly walks over to his desk and begins rifling through the drawers. He watches the detective as he pulls open the last drawer and brings out a stack of papers. He walks over to where John is sitting and sets the papers next to him. John takes the top paper on the stack, an old newspaper, and begins to read it over. He frowns and looks at the other papers in the stack, all contained inside a large file folder. He reads the information in front of him and then he reads it again, and again, as if he is unable to quite believe what is set in front of his face.

"Sherlock, this is horrible. I'm so sorry."

* * *

 **A/N: So, I feel like I should give a quick explanation about Kaley's condition. This might not all be completely accurate to real life, but I'm going to allow myself some creative liberty with the effects of congenital analgesia.**

 **Kaley is incapable of feeling any pain on the outside of her body. She can feel the actual pressure against her skin, but she doesn't feel the pain itself. She can feel temperature changes, but not the pain that results from extreme heat or extreme cold. She might begin shivering when she's really cold, but not become aware of it and she often isn't aware when she begins to sweat because of being really hot. As for internal pain such as headaches or stomach aches, she feels a compression of sorts, kind of like a throbbing compressed feeling but she doesn't feel any sharp pain.**

 **I have also decided that the effects of hunger and sleep affect her almost like they would a normal person, but a bit delayed. She only becomes aware of the effects once she's relaxed, so to speak. If she's focusing on something else, then she does not become aware of this. However, as soon as she switches her focus, she becomes aware of the fatigue/headache/other effects.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I hope you guys are liking my little story! Sorry for how slow it's starting out and sorry for the rather short chapters so far. I promise that it will pick up soon and the chapters should get longer once I get into actual plot stuff. Also...**

 **Thank you to Guest for the lovely review and well... Here's an update for you!**

 **And thank you to deschperado! I'm glad you are enjoying the story.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Sherlock had said nothing in response to John's seemingly horrified expression. He had simply given a small nod and then taken the papers from John's grasp. He had then tucked them away inside the drawer, slamming it with a bit more force than necessary. The desk had shook with the force of the drawer being shut and it seemed to John that Sherlock's shoulders were shaking slightly as well. The detective had then turned, given a small nod in John's direction, and stalked towards his room.

"Does she know?" John's quietly spoken question stops the detective in his tracks. "Does she know anything about this?"

Sherlock looks back at John with a fierce gaze. He stares at the doctor with anger burning behind his eyes as he gives a quick response. "No. And she won't ever know."

"You must tell her eventually. She doesn't deserve to have this sort of thing hidden from her." John looks at the detective with an incredulous expression. He shakes his head as he continues. "It's her history too, Sherlock. It might have been traumatizing for you, but she deserves to know."

"I was not traumatized. And I don't believe that I asked for your parenting advice." Sherlock snaps at John before turning and entering his room.

Sherlock sits down next to Kaley as he enters the room, watching her as she shifts in her sleep. The girl lets out a light cough as she rolls onto her side, her dark hair splayed out around her head. Sherlock rests a hand on top of her head and begins smoothing down the stray hairs on her forehead. He leans down as he hears her mumbling something, the corners of her mouth quirking as he hears her muttering the results of her experiment.

"Emotional connection to color?" Sherlock quirks an eyebrow, picking up the dyed ends of her hair. "Interesting tactic."

"Thought you would like it." Kaley blinks up at Sherlock, her almost crystal clear eyes locking onto her father's face. She sniffles slightly before attempting to sit up. "Did I get sick?"

"Of course you did." He helps her sit up, letting her rest against his chest. "You were out in the rain at six in the morning."

"Just following in my father's footsteps." Kaley yawns, blinking her eyes slowly. She then shakes her head and curls up against Sherlock.

"Your father isn't a very good example to follow." Sherlock rests his chin on top of her head. "He's not exactly accepted in society as normal. Now, it's seven. Get some sleep, or whatever normal people do at seven in the morning."

Kaley gives a slow nod, tucking her head into Sherlock's chest. She yawns again and then stays silent, letting Sherlock rock her slightly. A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth as she feels Sherlock begin to card a hand through her hair and she slowly drifts off to sleep.

* * *

John sits in his armchair, reading over the newspaper that he had so rudely been interrupted from earlier. He skims the article on the cover, only to stop as a familiar name pops out. He goes back and reads the article again. He shakes his head and reads it again slowly. The title of the article sits boldly at the top of the page.

" _Katarina Newton Escapes With Five Years Left On Sentence"_

"Sherlock!" John calls the detective with a panicked tone. When he doesn't get a response, he jumps from the chair and rushes down the hall. He pushes open the door to the detective's room with another shout of his name. "Sherlock."

The detective doesn't respond and John quickly sees why. Sherlock had fallen asleep with Kaley resting against him. One hand is wrapped tightly around her and the other is hanging limply at his side. John smirks slightly as he walks up to Sherlock and taps him on the shoulder. The detective wakes with a start, jostling the fifteen-year-old into the land of the living.

Kaley shoots Sherlock a glare as she nestles her head back against Sherlock's chest. She then squeezes her eyes shut, twisting her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. Sherlock looks over at John, one eyebrow raised in question.

"What gave you the illusion that you should come and wake Kaley with your shouting?"

"I think you ought to see this." John gives a small nod as he hands Sherlock the newspaper. He watches for Sherlock's reaction, but the only thing that he can detect is a slight shift as Sherlock squeezes Kaley tightly.

Sherlock hands the paper back to John with a tight expression. He gives a curt nod, his eyebrows pulling together. He says nothing for a long while, simply hugging Kaley against him and rocking her slightly. The detective finally gives another short nod before looking in John's direction.

"That is a problem." Sherlock slowly steeples his hands beneath his chin and then gives a quick nod. "I'm sure the police are searching at this moment."

A knock at the door draws John's attention away from Sherlock and keeps him from giving a rather annoyed response. He shoots Sherlock a glare before turning and heading towards the main door. He walks down the stairs and then quickly pulls the door open.

"Good day." Detective Inspector Lestrade greets John as he steps into the foyer. "Is Sherlock here?"

"Yes, he's just up stairs. I can call him down for you."

"No, I have a feeling this might be a long meeting. It's about an escaped prisoner; Katarina Newton."

John pinches the bridge of his nose before giving a nod and leading the man upstairs. He gestures for him to sit down in the living room and then walks towards Sherlock's room. John pushes open the door and walks up to the detective who had moved from the bed.

"Lestrade says he has a case for you. About Katarina Newton."

Sherlock blinks slowly, his mouth twitching into a small frown. He stays silent as he walks past John and enters the living room. He takes a seat in his armchair and looks over at Lestrade.

"I thought I was clear when I expressed to you my wish to stay away from cases involving this woman."

"I know. And, normally, I wouldn't have bothered you with this, but we have reason to believe that she escaped for a very specific reason."

John sits down in his chair and interrupts Lestrade with a quick question. "And what exactly is that reason?"

"She's coming for you Sherlock."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hallloooo. I suck at writing long chapters, apparently. Because this chapter is so short that it could be me (Hehe :p). Anyways... Here is a little baby filler chapter for y'all because I'm brain dead from finals.**

 **Thank you thank you thank you to Fan-of-Fandom279! I'm so glad that you're liking my little attempt at writing.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

"What do you mean she's coming for him? How could she possibly have heard about him from prison?"

"Heard about him?" Lestrade lifts an eyebrow and opens his mouth as if to continue questioning, but Sherlock quickly interrupts.

"He knows, John." Sherlock gives a slow nod in Lestrade's direction before continuing. "Who do you think was in charge of the investigation?"

John looks over at Lestrade and he gives a small, slow nod. "Right. He's known this entire time." He brings his eyebrows together as he turns his gaze back to Sherlock.

"I want to have some officers out here." Lestrade gestures in the direction of the windows. "Just in case she comes here."

"You didn't come here to ask for his help?" John sounds slightly skeptical as he questions Lestrade.

"Just to offer our help." Lestrade shakes his head as he stands from the chair. He then turns towards the stairs. "Well, not exactly an offer. The officers are already outside."

Sherlock rolls his eyes before something suddenly dawns on him and he hurries down the hall. John lets out an exasperated sigh as he turns towards Lestrade. He lifts his shoulders in an apologetic gesture and then nods as the man heads towards the stairs. Lestrade hops down the steps and then heads out the front door to the building. The sound of the door slamming can be heard as John crosses to the window. He nods to himself as he sees the officers spread out around the front of the building.

* * *

Sherlock lets out a breath as he pushes open the door and sees Kaley sitting on his bed. She looks up from the book she had been reading, a confused expression on her face. She blinks her blue eyes slowly as Sherlock walks over to her and then sits down. He places a hand on her knee and squeezes it slightly. Kaley looks down at his hand and then back up at his face as she makes a small questioning noise.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." Sherlock speaks softly to her as he lifts his hand from her knee and then places it on her shoulder. He squeezes it and then leans forwards, resting his chin on the top of her head. Sherlock stays there for a moment before leaning back and looking her in the eye. "Why don't you tell me about your experiment?"

Kaley's face breaks into a wide smile as she begins to explain her experiment. She waves her hands around animatedly as she speaks, gesturing at her hair every so often to demonstrate her point. Sherlock watches with a fond expression as the young girl continues to explain, stopping every few minutes to ensure that her father is still listening and then continuing again. She rambles on for about an hour until she is interrupted by snoring sounds.

Kaley stops talking and laughs softly to herself. She stands from the bed and crosses over to the closet where a small case stands, holding all of her clothing. She pulls some out and then slips into the bathroom. When she steps back out, dressed in a dark blue hoodie, black jeans, and ankle boots, she makes sure not to alert John.

She tiptoes down the hall and then slips into the foyer outside of the flat. She pulls her phone from her pocket and checks the time. Just past noon. Perfect. She could head to the library and be back in time for a late lunch. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Kaley pops one of her earbuds in as she enters the library. She hums along to the song as she crosses the empty area at the front of the library and heads towards the section on psychology. She keeps glancing over her shoulder with a slightly confused expression. She is fairly certain that someone had been following her since she'd left 221B.

No. She's one hundred percent sure. This same brunette woman had been behind her throughout the entire walk to the library. Kaley sucks in a deep breath before ducking behind a shelf of books. She picks up a random book and begins to flip through the pages as she watches the woman out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly, the woman's disappears from her line of sight and Kaley looks around in a panic.

She shakes her head quickly, attempting to calm herself down. She could probably just be overreacting about this. Her father has always blamed her of having an overactive imagination. Kaley begins to nervously pull at a strand of black hair as she walks further down the isle of books. She examines the titles as she walks, not necessarily looking for a specific book, but simply examining those that were at hand.

The raven haired girl continues reading over the titles, having completely forgotten any of her worries from before as she completely emersed herself in finding a book. She hums along to another song, foot tapping against the ground. She stops for a moment to pick up a book titled "Sociopaths, Psychopaths, and More" and gives a small laugh. She reads the small blurb at the back of the book and then sets it back down.

"Is the book not to your liking?"

Kaley whips around at the voice coming from behind her and turns towards the sneering face of the brunette woman. She attempts to back away from the woman, but she suddenly feels a hard object hitting her across the back of her head. She stumbles forwards, falling onto her knees and letting out a terrified squeak as she slowly loses consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm soooo sorry for how long it took me to update and sorry for the kind of sucky chapter. I** **told myself that I would post once a week and then I completely failed at that. Finals are going to be the death of me, but that's done for now, so I hope I can get back into a normal schedule. Also...**

 **Thank you to Ana for the lovely review!**

 **And a big thank you to Fan-of-Fandom279 for another fabulous review!**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

"She's probably fine, Sherlock. It's normal for teenagers to go out on the weekend." John says in exasperation as his prior attempts to calm the pacing Sherlock had failed. He runs a hand through his graying hair, eyes narrowed slightly as he looks in Sherlock's direction.

"It's four in the afternoon. Do you really think that it's normal to be gone for four hours?" Sherlock lifts an eyebrow as he stops his pacing for a quick moment. He then shakes his head and continues his pacing, a clearly frustrated frown on his face.

"Why don't we have one of the officers downstairs go and look for her?" John points at the window where a small grouping of police cars is lined up.

Sherlock nods and heads towards the stairs. He quickly steps down them before pushing open the front door. He walks up to one of the cars and ducks through the window. He flashes the officer a false smile as he speaks.

"Did you, by any chance, see an adolescent girl walking out of this flat earlier?"

"Library." The officer nods, giving a quick one word answer. He then rolls the window up with an annoyed grunt.

Sherlock nods and then turns and enters his flat again. He rushes up the stairs, grabs his jacket, and then rushes back down the stairs. John looks up in confusion and then, seeing Sherlock leave in a hurry, jumps up from his chair. He gives an annoyed huff as he pulls on his jacket and then runs down the stairs.

"Sherlock!" John shakes his head as he shuts the door behind him. He mumbles under his breath as he chases after the detective. "This is not what I had in mind."

Sherlock flips up the collar of his coat as he goes in the direction of the library. John follows after him, a wide frown on his face as he crosses the street right after Sherlock. He follows closely after the detective as he enters the library.

Sherlock immediately turns towards the psychology section and begins searching the isles for any sign of his daughter. He stops as he sees a metal pipe resting on the floor. He crouches down and picks it up, examining the indent in the pipe as John walks up behind him.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" John crouches down next to him and looks at the pipe as well. He frowns, an uneasy feeling overcoming him as he realizes what it is. "You don't think…"

"Oh, most definitely."

* * *

"So, do you have me here for a reason?" Silence meets the questioning tone of the girl.

"Do we know each other?" Again, silence. The girl continues in a slightly angry tone. "Is this because of my father?"

The woman shakes her head slightly as she paces in front of the Kaley. She holds a baseball bat in her hand and a crazed expression on her face. She steps forwards and checks Kaley's restraints, nodding as she ensures that they're tight enough.

"Yes, it is because of your father. Of what he did." The woman's voice holds a hint of hatred as she speaks. "I went to prison because he gave my description to the police. And, then, he _took_ you."

"Took me? He's my father." Kaley squirms in her seat, pulling at the ropes tying her to the chair. "He didn't need to take me from anywhere."

"Oh. I see." The woman stops, baseball bat resting on her shoulder. "I _see._ He hasn't yet told you about me. He doesn't deem me important!"

"What are you talking about?" Kaley's back arches as she attempts to back away from the woman. "Who are you?"

"I'm Katarina Newton, and you were supposed to be a test." She crouches down in front of her with a grin. "I had heard of this 'Holmes' man, and I was intrigued. So I decided that I would like to follow through with an experiment."

Kaley shakes her head quickly, wrists turning white as she pulls at her bonds. She doesn't speak as the woman stands from her crouched position on the ground and then begins to speak again. Katarina taps her fingers against her leg as she examines Kaley's face.

"You look like him." She scrunches up her nose, brushing greasy brown hair over one shoulder and narrowing her gray eyes slightly. "That's disappointing."

"You said… you mentioned an experiment." Kaley stutters quietly in an attempt to shift Katarina's focus from her face. "What was your experiment?"

"I wanted to know how the progeny of the _great_ Sherlock Holmes would turn out. I took that into my own hands." Her nostrils flare as she continues in an angry tone. "I thought that he wouldn't mind, but apparently what I did was considered "assault" and I was thrown in prison."

"I don't…" Kaley shakes her head slightly, attempting to understand the crazed rambles.

"I'd done it before. Nobody else had ever caught me, or reported me to the police." The woman shakes her head slightly, an angry grimace on her face. "And then, my plan worked, but they took the child. They took her and gave her to _him_."

Understanding dawns on Kaley and she shakes her head, panicked tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She presses her back against the chair as the woman steps closer and runs a hand along her cheek, a strange purring noise coming from her. Kaley's breath comes in short gasps as the woman begins to stroke her hair.

"Please, stop! Let me go!" She pulls at the restraints and begins kicking her legs out. "Get away from me!"

"One shouldn't shout at their mother that way. Shame on you." Katarina brushes her brown hair out of her face, the crisp ends and hundreds upon hundreds of knots making her hair look closer to a bush. "We wouldn't want you to get punished."

"You can't hurt me." She pulls at the restraints once more before falling slack in the chair.

"Oh, I won't hurt _you."_ She grins widely, her yellowish teeth showing. "I am using you as bait. I have a different victim in mind."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Greetings and salutations my dudes. Welcome to another baby chapter of my story. Just a slight apology ahead of time if it seems like Sherlock is a bit OOC. Also...**

 **just. me. myself. myfloor: Thank you for the lovely review!**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

"Sherlock." John's exasperated tone clearly cuts through the quiet hum that had settled over the police station. "Just let them do their job."

Sherlock turns on John, a furious fire burning in his usually expressionless eyes. His hands are clasped so tightly around his scarf that the fabric no longer resembles anything that a person might be able to wear. His mouth is pulled into a tight line and his breathing seems to hitch in his chest, stopping him from speaking. The intensity of the emotion on Sherlock's face stuns John into silence and he simply shakes his head, gaze shifting to the floor.

Eventually, Lestrade walks up to them with a dip of his head in greeting. He then gestures for them to follow him into his office. He takes a seat at his desk and waits for the two men to sit down before speaking.

"Awfully sorry about the wait." He wrings his hands, an apologetic expression on his face. "Had a few things to straighten out, but I can as soon as I could once I heard what the… issue was."

Sherlock crosses his arms, an expression of clear annoyance maring his features. His foot taps against the ground in a way that makes it clear that he's aware of it happening.

Lestrade clears his throat before continuing. "We have officers questioning people at the library and, so far, all eyewitnesses have seen the same thing. A brown-haired woman went down the aisle of books and then left within a short increment of time."

He pauses to place crime scene photos on the table and then speaks again, this time in a low voice. "Our best guess is that it's Katarina. I'm sending officers to any place that I think she might go."

"Check the hotel." Sherlock suddenly speaks, his voice just above a whisper and his eyes are glued to the ground. "That is where she would take her."

"You don't mean…"

"Yes." He says curtly, cutting off further argument by standing and exiting the office. He throws one last comment over his shoulder before he's gone. "Call me when you've found my daughter."

* * *

Sherlock looks up at the sudden sound of footsteps on the stairway outside of the flat. He pushes the scattered newspapers and files to the side and watches as the door is pushed open. His face falls as he sees that it's only John and he continues to look through the papers.

"You were at the station for quite a long time?" Sherlock questions him, not looking up from his files. "Why?"

"I was talking to Lestrade. I wanted to know more about the case." John sits down across from him, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I… I read what happened, but I never imagined… She practically tortured you, Sherlock. Why did you keep this a secret?"

"Yes, yes. All in the past." He waves it off, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he reads a certain paper. It seems like he hadn't heard John's question, but the slight flicker of annoyance in his blue eyes has the doctor thinking otherwise.

"Have you found anything?" John decides not to question the detective, knowing he'll get nothing out of him. "They haven't found anything back at the station. Just sending people out to the hotel…"

"It's not the hotel." Sherlock mumbles, picking up another file. It's then that John notices the imprints in the palm of his hand, marks from what looks to be fingernails. "It must be random."

"Sherlock!" He gives a satisfied nod as the man's head lifts, eyes lazily drifting to meet his. "One, what have you done to your hands? Two, what are you mumbling about?"

The detective glances at his hands where blood had started to pool on the surface of the wounds. He clenches his fists, his fingernails matching up with the marks on his hands. He simply shrugs in response to the first question but responds to the second one with several slightly worrisome question of his own.

"They sent men to search the hotel? Are you certain of that? They are looking for my daughter?"

"Yes, Sherlock. There are people at the hotel." John runs a hand over his face, sighing slightly as he watches the detective once again turn to the papers.

"She was ill." His slightly rough sounding voice suddenly comes from among the papers, his light colored eyes looking at John from the stacks of paper. "She was injured, John."

John nods slowly, the slightly panicked edge to Sherlock's voice shocking him into silence. He doesn't say anything as he sees Sherlock shake his head and dive back behind the stack of papers. For a second, he's sure that he can see the detective's hands shaking but his view is soon obstructed by a large file.

"Sherlock, we will find her." He finally finds his voice, looking over the stack of papers to see the detective staring down at his hands. The shaking is definitely visible now, and the blood stands out strikingly against the detective's pale skin.

"You have no way to know that." He snaps angrily, pushing away from the table and walking towards the kitchen. He keeps his hands tucked against his side as he hears John walking up behind him.

He makes a quick decision as he stands next to the detective at the kitchen sink, the water washing blood away from shaking palms. Humor. He would attempt to distract Sherlock with a joke. He's not sure why this is his first thought, but he follows it anyways. "Wow, look at that. The great Sherlock Holmes really does have feelings."

John hears a soft laugh coming from the younger man and he's suddenly holding an armful of shaking detective. He looks around in shock for a moment, unsure if this had actually happened, before quickly placing a hand on the man's back. He stumbles slightly as Sherlock's knees give out, but he manages to lower him to the ground before sitting down next to him. John tentatively places a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and squeezes it slightly. "We will find her."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm really sorry for how long it took me to update this! School has just been really crazy, and I guess I just kind of forgot. Um... So, sorry again, and I hope there are still some people reading this thing.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**  
 _With Kaley. Unknown Location._  
"Will you please just let me go?" Kaley's voice sounds slightly scratchy, damaged from the amount of pleading and screaming. "I'll… I can give you money."

"You think I want money?" She asks with a laugh as she runs one finger down Kaley's cheek. "I don't want money. But I do want your father to pay for what he did to me."

Katarina then stands and walks towards the small, metal door at the center of the back wall. She exits the room and then swings the door shut. Kaley listens for a moment and a slightly desperate smile appears on her face as she doesn't hear the sound of any locks being engaged. She then looks down at her wrists, pulling slightly at the plastic zip ties that bind her arms to the chair.

 _Look what you have gotten yourself into this time Kaley. I am sure that father would be quite pleased with your deductive skills._

She sighs loudly, letting her arms drop down against the armrest as she realizes she has no way of getting out of her restraints. And… was that blood that was on her wrists now? Wonderful, she'd gone and cut up her wrists without her realizing it. Her father would definitely be pleased with her now…

Kaley isn't sure how long she sits in the chair, a cough tickling the back of her throat and the pressure of the stitches in her leg pulsating slightly as if she had just remembered that they were there. She would never feel the pain of it, of course, but she could tell that the wound was there. She could tell that there was something there that wasn't supposed to be.

She sometimes wondered what pain might feel like, and she had often… Well, she didn't like to think about what she had done, but it really wasn't for the reasons one might think. She simply wanted to know what it felt like. She had wanted to seem normal and so she had tried to feel pain, but of course it hadn't worked. It would never work, no matter how many times she tried. She would never-

"Wake up!"

Pressure. That's what wakes Kaley up. A large amount of pressure against her cheek and then her chair being tilted back so that her head is nearly against the floor. Her eyes snap open and she looks around in confusion, pulling at her restraints with a slightly panicked gasp.

"Good. You're awake." Katarina's voice floats down towards Kaley as she lets go of the chair and it smacks down against the ground. Kaley's head hits the concrete and then bounces back up with a slight cracking noise. "Oh dear. Did that hurt? Sorry."

"It didn't hurt, actually." Kaley mumbles as she looks up at Katarina with a frown. "I don't feel pain."

"Oh? Is that a serious thing?" She leans over her, her matted hair hanging about her face as she stares down at Kaley. "You are actually incapable of feeling pain."

"You didn't believe me the first time?"

Katarina laughs, shaking her head quickly as she straightens back up. She rests her hands on her knees as she suddenly shifts to look down at Kaley again. She flops down on the ground next to the fallen over chair, rocking forwards onto her knees. Her brows are furrowed slightly in annoyance as she stares at Kaley.

"You're awful." She all but growls as she stands back up. "I hate you. You look just like him. Get out of here." Katarina suddenly begins to cut at the restraints with a knife from her back pocket. She finishes cutting them off and then roughly grabs at Kaley's arm, pulling her up from the ground.

"What?" Kaley manages to say in confusion before Katarina drags her out the open door. She shoves her out and onto the sidewalk before shouting something indiscernible as she slams the door shut. Kaley manages to catch herself before she tumbles to the ground and she looks around with a slightly panicked expression.

She can see a small group of people beginning to crowd around her and, for a second, she can't figure out why. It finally dawns on her that they probably all saw her get thrown out of the… wherever it was that she got thrown out of. She gives an awkward cough and pushes through the crowd of people until she can find a way towards a rather empty alleyway.

She can hear some people calling out questions that she can't seem to understand, but she doesn't turn around until she's far away from the place that the crowd was standing. Kaley stops in the alley, pressing her back against the wall as she looks around in confusion. There, sitting at the end of the alley, sits a sign that looks like it's written in anything by English. Now that she comes to think of it, the sign looks to be written in Swedish or maybe Norwegian.

"Excuse me!" Kaley calls out as she runs towards the end of the alley, waving at one of the many people ambling along the side street. She stops in front of a random person who turns to face her. "Where are we?"

The woman stares at her for a moment before tapping a man whom Kaley assumes to be her husband. The man turns towards them and then the woman speaks quickly to him in another language. He nods, looking at Kaley with a small smile.

"I speak a little English. I maybe can help you."

"I just need to know where I am." She says quietly, arms crossing against her chest. "And if there's any way to get to London."

"Ringkobing, Norway." The man says with a slight nod. "To get to London, we have boats or you take a plane."

Kaley's mouth falls open as she stares over at that man. She gives a very quick nod, a mumbled "thank you," and then turns around quickly. Her breathing picks up and she turns the corner, collapsing against the wall as soon as she's out of sight. Sure, she'd thought that maybe she was in Sweden or something. But hearing that she actually was somewhere away from home. That she'd ended up in Norway. That really freaked her out.

How was she going to get home now? How was her dad going to find her?

* * *

 _221B Baker Street_  
A loud shout rings out around the flat, followed by the sound of something rather heavy hitting the floor. John sighs, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and heading towards the living room. He looks around for a moment, his eyes finally landing on the table that was knocked over. One leg was broken off and many papers are strewn about the floor.

"Everything alright Sherlock?" John asks quietly as he approaches the detective hunched over at his desk.

All that he gets is a slight grunt in response as Sherlock flips through some more papers. Most of them are about the same person, Katarina, and John's face twists into an expression of distaste.

"Just had an argument with the table, did you?" He glances at the broken heap of wood again, sighing slightly as he turns towards the detective again. "Not having much luck?"

"The police found nothing at the hotel, which I did predict. I thought it was more random, but now it seems that might not be quite correct." He flips through some of the pages of one folder. "Her family moved to Norway from England when she was quite young, but they moved back to England after several years… I suppose that she could have taken her to Norway, but that doesn't seem likely."

"So, not much luck then?" John asks again as he takes a seat on the couch. "I'm sure you'll find something. You are the only consulting detective in the world, after all."

"Yes, you are quite right about that." Sherlock mumbles before flipping through the folder again, passing through the small section about her home in Norway. He shakes his head, tossing the folder down on the desk with an annoyed mumble. "It's been almost two days now. Surely I would have found something if there were anything to be found."

"Have you eaten today?" John asks completely out of the blue, attempting to distract the detective from the seemingly impossible task of finding Kaley. "You should eat."

"I can't be distracted by the needs of my transport."

"Is that what you would say to Kaley? If you saw that she hadn't eaten all day?" He crosses his arms against his chest.

"Well, I most likely would inform her that she needed to eat. But, you see, the conditions are quite different." Sherlock turns in his chair slightly. "Due to my daughter's condition, she must be often reminded, as she can't feel hunger or such things."

"She certainly is your daughter, isn't she?" John jokes, a slight smile appearing on his face.

"Yes. She is." Sherlock mutters, clearly unamused as he stands from the desk. "But, I shall have something to eat."

"Good. It seems that we're making progress." John mumbles, stifling a slight laugh behind his hand. He heads towards the kitchen, followed by Sherlock. "What'll it be?"

John frowns as he doesn't get a response and he turns towards Sherlock who had sat down at the table. His frown deepens as he sees what Sherlock is doing. The detective had grabbed a picture of Kaley from who knows where and was now staring down at it with an indiscernible expression.

It seems that maybe he hadn't succeeded in taking Sherlock's mind off of Kaley. Oh well. He was just going to have to help Sherlock find her as soon as possible. Before Sherlock did something completely awful.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I suck at updating my stories and I'm really sorry about that. Life is really hectic and I honestly don't know how often I'll be able to update. Also, this chapter is kind of terrible compared to what I've been posting before, soo... Sorry about that. Anyways... I'll try to get this story finished when I can, but I don't know when that will be.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

 _Ringkobing, Norway_

Kaley sighs loudly, her head resting against her folded arms as she sits at a table in front of a small cafe. She shakes her head, mumbling slightly as she lifts her head to look down the street. She had managed to pickpocket someone for a bit of cash and she had decided to stop at this cafe to get some food because she actually hadn't eaten since… well, she isn't actually sure when she last ate food, but she knows that she hasn't eaten in a while. She didn't exactly feel hungry, but she knew that she should eat something. She had been dealing with her "condition" for long enough that she could at least make a guess as to when she should be eating.

She picks at her meager piece of toast, sighing slightly as she bites at the corner of the bread and ends up spilling crumbs all over herself. She shifts her gaze and then stares at her now empty cup of hot chocolate with an annoyed groan. Of course she picked to rob the one person who didn't have enough money to buy a decent meal. Sure, she did feel a little bit bad about stealing, but she also felt bad that she could barely afford a slice of bread. Her first thought after getting out of that house was to find a public telephone but, for some reason, none of her calls would go through. Every single call had made a distinct shrieking noise before the call went completely silent, not even connecting to a voicemail, and so she had given up those failed attempts which is what led her to find this cafe.

Kaley has no idea why none of the phones were working, but she has the sneaking suspicion that maybe Katarina was more influential than she let on. She was a bit concerned that Katarina had let her go so early and she was fairly certain there was something else going on. It was far too easy for her to have left… Why would she have let her go after only a few days? She wasn't actually sure how long she had been stuck here, but she had estimated that it had been about two days. And two days certainly felt like it wasn't long enough for Katarina to keep her captive. The trouble she went through to kidnap Kaley and then ship her to Norway must have been meant for more than that.

"Hva er det du tenker på?" A voice suddenly speaks up behind Kaley and the fifteen-year-old jumps slightly, turning around to glance at the tall man standing behind her.

"Pardon?" She rubs at the back of her neck slightly. "I don't speak Norwegian."

"Sorry. I asked what you are thinking." The man says, flashing her a friendly smile as he moves to stand across from her. "You were looking deep in thought."

"If I told you, there is certainly no way you would believe me." Kaley's response is little less than a mumble as she looks over at the man. She chews on her lower lip without even realizing she's doing it and, soon enough, she can taste blood on the tip of her tongue.

"No way to know if you do not tell me."

"I was kidnapped and now I have no way of contacting anyone." She blurts it out, one hand pressed against her lower lip in an attempt to stop it from bleeding. "And I probably sound insane right now."

The man's eyes widen slightly, as if a bit shocked by this, and he looks around for a moment before looking back at Kaley. He quickly sits himself down at the table across from her and then folds his hands in front of him. He opens his mouth for a moment before snapping it closed again and shaking his head, thinking to himself for another moment.

"You are serious? We must talk to the police. Come with me." The man pushes back from the table and then quickly stands up, offering a hand to held Kaley up, which she immediately refuses. He then waves a hand, gesturing for Kaley to follow him towards what she assumes is the police station.

Kaley looks at him, hand lowering from her lip as she shoots him a slightly suspicious expression. She doesn't question him, however, and simply stands slowly from the table. She looks down, one eyebrow lifting slightly at the blood coating her fingertip. Quickly grabbing a napkin, she wipes her fingers off and then presses the napkin to her lip.

"Um… Are you certain this is a good idea?" She tilts her head slightly, still pressing the napkin against her lip. "I don't know you."

"Ah, my apologies. I am Aleksander." He holds out one hand, intending to shake Kaley's hand, and flashes her a friendly smile.

Kaley chooses not to shake his hand and simply gives a small dip of her head instead. "I'm… Elizabeth." She uses her middle name instead to introduce herself, her eyes narrowed slightly as she watches the man with a cautious expression.

He looks slightly confused as she introduces herself and he looks over his shoulder for a moment. Kaley takes a small step back, her cautious expression still quite apparent on her face. Aleksander soon gets over his seeming confusion and turns back around to shoot Kaley a stilted nod. He then turned on his heel and kept walking, calling over his shoulder to the girl.

"I'm going to make a call, if you don't mind."

With that said, he turns and walks a few feet away before he pulls a phone from his pocket. He quickly dials a number and holds the phone to his ear, seemingly listening as it rings. After a moment, it seems that the person picks up and he speaks quickly into the phone, a worried expression appearing on his face. His tone is low and Kaley is unable to catch anything that he's saying. After a few more moments, he hangs up and hurries over to where Kaley stands.

She lifts one eyebrow in confusion as the man roughly grabs her arm, an angry expression on his face as he pulls her down the street. She attempts to pull her arm from his grasp and shoot him an annoyed glare, but she can't seem to release herself from his grip. Once he's pulled her down the street for a few moments, he stops and turns around to look at her.

"What was that?" She gets out between clenched teeth, one hand still pressed to her bloody lip. "I thought we were going to the police station."

"We are… Yes, I am going to help you." Aleksander gives a quick nod and then runs a hand through his hair, eyes darting around the street in a suspicious gesture. "I was simply… worried that the kidnapper would see you."

"Would it surprise you if I said I didn't believe you?" Kaley mutters as she crosses her arms against her chest. "That looked fairly suspicious."

"Mhm… I was simply confused." Aleksander's tone is quiet and holds a slightly odd lilt that she can't place. "But, let us go."

Kaley is about to take a step away from him when she sees someone out of the corner of her eye. Spotting a woman who reminds her startlingly of Katarina, she quickly jumps forwards and then hurries pasts Aleksander. She doesn't care if he is following after her at this point, as she simply wants to ensure that she gets as far away as possible. Just as she is turning the corner, Aleksander suddenly grabs her arm and pulls her in the opposite direction.

"You are coming with me."

* * *

 _Scotland Yard, London_

Sherlock sits in front of Lestrade's desk, his hands steepled beneath his chin and his eyes tightly shut. He seems to be deep in thought and nobody has yet to disturb the consulting detective who has seemingly taken up the office as his own. Lestrade had called him down to discuss the details of Kaley's kidnapping, but Lestrade was apparently running late to his own meeting and so Sherlock had decided to let himself into the man's office. This didn't seem to bother Sherlock, but John was definitely beginning to get antsy as he sits in a chair off to the side of the desk.

"Do you think he knows anything?" John finally asks, his head tilted to the side and a questioning expression on his face.

"I imagine that he does." Sherlock's voice is low and seemingly unimpressed as he blinks his eyes open slowly. "Likely a lead as to where Katarina is. Or perhaps some sort of location where Kaley might be."

"Mm… Of course." John nods slowly, his hands curling into fists and then uncurling again as he stands from the chair. "Well, I am quite done waiting around here. I'm going to see about where Lestrade is."

Just as John is about to storm out the door, Lestrade pushes it open himself and hurries into the room. He looks slightly confused as he sees John, but recollection quickly appears on his face and he gives a quick nod of greeting. He sits himself behind his desk and then opens up a rather large file that he had brought in with him. Looking up from the file, he glances in Sherlock's direction and then speaks in a slightly cautious tone.

"She isn't in England anymore." Lestrade turns the file around so that Sherlock can read it and then he continues speaking. "We have reason to believe she was taken to another country by Katarina. Now, we aren't entirely sure what-"

"Norway. She's in Norway." Sherlock cuts Lestrade off and then leans back in the chair with a frustrated sigh. "I should have realized…"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I am very sorry about the slow updates. I promise that I will keep updating, but I can't promise a steady schedule. Life has just been extremely overwhelming and my anxiety has been pretty bad for the past few months. However, things are getting better and I'm going to try and keep things going a little bit faster. I will also be editing the tense of the writing, so apologies for any confusion.**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

Kaley stumbled a bit as Aleksander gripped her upper arm and roughly dragged her along the street. She was fairly certain that he wasn't here to help her at this point and she was silently berating herself for ever trusting him in the first place. He hadn't been a convincing liar, but she had idiotically decided that perhaps he was just a little bit nervous about the whole situation. Now she was being dragged along by some stranger to an unknown location and it was all because she had been an idiot. An absolute idiot.

"I guess you have figured out I am not going to police," Alexsander said as he stopped at the end of the alleyway. "I work for your mother."

Kaley grunted and tried to pull herself away from him, her arm twisting at an odd angle as Aleksander roughly pulled her back again. He then gripped both wrists tightly in his hands and glared at her, as if trying to scare into staying put. It doesn't seem to work as she continued twisting and pulling, attempting to get away from him again. Finally, he slapped her across the face and she flinched, not from pain but from the shock of such a sudden physical attack.

"She claims you are very smart, so maybe you have figured this out. But, in case you have not, I will tell you myself."

She paused for a moment, seemingly debating whether or not she should attempt to get away from him again. Finally, she decided that she likely wouldn't be able to escape and so gave a quick nod of her head, gesturing for the man to continue.

"I don't like that lady one bit, I wish to make that clear. She is crazy, but the pay is good, so I do what she asks. I got the call several weeks ago and she told me she'd gotten out of prison so she could go find her kid." Aleksander paused for a moment, eyes flickering a bit as he thought back to the phone call. "She asked me to help kidnap you and bring you here. I thought that was all, but today she suddenly called me to say that you had been let go. She wanted to make this a big game, so I'm supposed to make sure you don't go to the police while she tries to find you again."

"She's using me as a game? I thought I was supposed to be bait." Kaley exclaims in disbelief, her eyes widening a bit as she once again tried to pull her arms away. "What is she going to do once she gets me back?"

"She said she was tired of waiting and I assume that whatever she does won't be great. But either way, you can't go to the police or I will hurt you."

Kaley's ears perked at the empty threat and she almost grinned to herself in amusement. She continued pulling her arms, using all her weight to try and release herself from his grip. If hurting her was all he could use to threaten her, then this surely couldn't be all that bad.

"I'm going to let you go now, so you best be a good little runner because Katarina really wants this to be entertaining."

* * *

 _Scotland Yard, London_

"How are you so sure that she's in Norway?" John hurried to catch up with Sherlock as the man walked quickly out of the station.

"It's where she's from. I assume she has more connections there than elsewhere."

"I think maybe we should let Lestrade handle this. They can contact people in Norway and try to find her themselves."

Sherlock scoffed as he exited the station and then stepped out on the street, lifting one hand to hail a taxi cab. "And allow these idiots to take full control of the case?"

"Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"I called my dear brother as soon as I deciphered where Kaley was being kept. He has arranged transportation for me to Norway." Sherlock walked to the curb as a car came to a stop and he let himself inside, quickly giving the driver directions.

"What? You can't be serious, Sherlock," John exclaimed as he entered the cab after Sherlock. "Why must you insist to do everything yourself?"

Sherlock gave no response as he leaned back, hands steepling underneath his chin. He pursed his lips in thought and his eyes closed quickly, likely now lost deep in thought. John gave up in his attempt to stop Sherlock and so he instead pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing up a familiar number.

 _"Who is this? And why are you calling?"_

"It's John Watson. I need to speak with Mycroft."

 _"He isn't taking any calls at th-"_

"It's about Sherlock."

There was a long pause on the other end before a familiar voice finally popped up on the other end, holding a fairly annoyed tone as he said, _"What was so urgent that you deemed it necessary to call me?"_

"Are you seriously going to allow him to go to Norway?"

 _"I have no reason not to. It's no trouble for me to arrange a flight and I don't recall wanting to find a kidnapped child ever being a bad thing."_

"Yes, but-"

The call disconnected and John groaned in annoyance as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He turned his head and saw Sherlock still deep in thought, his eyes shut tight and his face pinched in concentration. He shook his head and then turned to look out the window, an annoyed frown appearing on his face. This was absolute madness and there was no way this would end well.

People really should start listening to him more, or else they would just end up in more situations exactly like this one with Sherlock running off to a foreign country instead of allowing the police to investigate for themselves. Sure, it was expected of Sherlock to do something like this, but that didn't mean that John liked it. Because he didn't like it, not at all.


End file.
